Читать книгу Our Admirable Betty - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 14

"Gentlemen!" said the Viscount, "you have, I believe, had the honour to meet my uncle, Major d'Arcy, for a moment, 'tis now my privilege to make you better acquainted, for to know him is to honour him. Uncle, I present our Ben, our blooming Benjamin—Sir Benjamin Tripp."

"Ods body, sir!" cried Sir Benjamin, plump, rubicund and jovial. "'Tis a joy—a joy, I vow! Od, sir,'tis I protest an infinite joy to——"

"Ha' done with your joys, Ben," said the Viscount, "here's Tony all set for his bow! Nunky—Mr. Anthony Marchdale!" Mr. Marchdale, a man of the world of some nineteen summers bent languidly and lisped:

"Kiss your hands, sir!"

"I present Lord Alvaston!" His lordship, making the utmost of his slender legs aided by a pair of clocked silk stockings bowed exuberantly.

"Very devoted humble, sir! As regards your poacher, sir, ma humble 'pinion's precisely your 'pinion sir—poacher's a dam rogue but rogue's a man 'n' rabbit's only rabbit—if 'sequently if dam rogue kills rabbit an' rabbit's your rabbit——"

"Stint your plaguy rabbits a while, Bob. Nunky, Captain West."

"Yours to command, sir!" said the Captain, a trifle mature, a trifle grim, but shooting his ruffles with a youthful ease.

"The Marquis of Alton!"

"I agree with Ben, sir, 'tis a real joy, strike me dumb if 'tisn't!"

"Sir Jasper Denholm!"

Sir Jasper, chiefly remarkable for an interesting pallor, and handsome eyes which had earned for themselves the epithet of "soulful," bowed in turn:

"Sir," he sighed, "your dutiful humble! If you be one of this sighful, amorous fellowship that worships peerless Betty from afar, 'tis an added bond, sir, a——" Speech was extinguished by a gusty sigh.

"Od so!" exclaimed Sir Benjamin, hilariously, "do we then greet another rival for the smiles of our Admirable Lady Betty—begad!"

The Major started slightly then smiled and shook his head in denial.

"Nay sir, such presumption is not in me——"

"But, indeed, sir," sighed Sir Jasper, "you must have marked how Cupid lieth basking in the dimple of her able chin, lieth ambushed in her night-soft hair, playeth (naughty young wanton) in her snowy bosom, lurketh (rosy elf) 'neath——"

"Sir!" said the Major, rather hastily, "I have eyes!"

"Enough, sir—whoso hath eyes must worship! So do we salute you as a fellow-sufferer deep-smit of Eros his blissful, barbed dart."

"Od rabbit me, 'tis so!" cried Sir Benjamin. "Here's wine, come, a toast, let us fill to Love's latest bleeding victim—let us solemnly——"

The door opened, a rehabilitated footman announced: 'Lady Belinda Damain, Lady Elizabeth Carlyon,' and in the ladies swept, whereupon the Major instinctively felt to see if his peruke were straight.

"O dear heart!" exclaimed the Lady Belinda, halting with slim foot daintily poised. "So many gentlemen—I vow 'tis pure! And discussing a toast, too! O Gemini! Dear sirs, what is't—relate!"

"I' faith, madam," cried Sir Benjamin, "we greet and commiserate another victim to your glorious niece's glowing charms, we salute our fellow-sufferer Major d'Arcy!"

The Major laughed a little uncertainly as he hastened to welcome his guests.

"Indeed," said he, "what man having eyes can fail to admire though from afar, and in all humility!"

At this, Lady Betty laughed also and meeting her roguish look he flushed and bent very low above the Lady Belinda's hand but conscious only of her who stood so near and who in turn sank down before him in gracious curtsey, down and down, looking up at him the while with smile a little malicious and eyes of laughing mockery ere she rose, all supple, joyous ease despite her frills and furbelows.

"Doth he suffer much, think you, gentlemen?" she enquired, turning towards the company yet with gaze upon the Major's placid face. "Burneth he with amorous fire, think you, wriggleth he on Cupid's dart?"

"O infallibly!" answered Sir Benjamin, "I'll warrant me, madam, he flameth inwardly——

"E'en as unhappy I!" sighed Sir Jasper Denholm.

"And I myself!" said the Captain, shooting a ruffle.

"O Gad!" exclaimed Viscount Merivale, "why leave out the rest of us?"

"Demme, yes!" cried the Marquis, "we are all our divine Betty's miserable humble, obedient slaves to command——"

"'Tis excellent well!" exclaimed my lady gaily, "miserable slaves, I greet you one and all and 'tis now my will, mandate and command that you shall attend dear my aunt whiles I question this most placid sufferer as to his torments. Major, your hand—pray let us walk!"

As one in a dream he took her soft fingers in his and let her lead him whither she would. Side by side they passed through stately rooms lit by windows rich with stained glass; beneath carved and gilded ceilings, along broad corridors, up noble stairways and down again, she full of blithe talk, he rather more silent even than usual. She quizzed the grim effigies in armour, bowed airily to the portraits, peeped into cupboards and corners, viewing all things with quick, appraising, feminine eyes while he, looking at this and that as she directed him, was conscious only of her.

"'Tis a fine house!" she said critically, "and yet it hath, methinks, a sad and plaintive air. 'Tis all so big and desolate!"

"Desolate!" said he, thoughtfully.

"And lonely and cold, and empty and—ha'n't you noticed it, sir?"

"Why, no!"

"I marvel!"

"As for lonely, mam, they tell me I am naturally so, and then I have my work."

"And that, sir?"

"I'm writing a History of Fortification."

"It sounds plaguy dull!"

"So it does!" he agreed. In time they came to the library and study but on the threshold of that small, bare chamber, my lady paused.

"You poor soul!" she exclaimed. The Major looked startled. "'Tis here you sit and write?" she demanded. He admitted it. "And not so much as a rug on the floor!"

"Rugs are apt to—er—encumber one's feet!" he suggested.

"Nor a picture to light this dull panelling! Not a cushion, not a footstool! O 'tis a dungeon, 'tis deadly drear and smells horribly of tobacco—faugh!"

"Shall we rejoin the company?" he ventured.

"So bare, so barren!" she sighed, "so lorn and loveless!" Here she sank down at the desk in the Major's great armchair and shook disparaging head at him: "Why not work in comfort?"

"Is it so lacking?" he questioned, "I was content——"

"With very little, sir!"

"Surely to be content is to be happy?"

"And are you so—very happy, Major d'Arcy?"

"I—think so! At the least, I'm content——"

"Is a man ever content?" she enquired, taking up one of his pens in idle fingers.

The Major fell to pondering this, watching her the while as, with the feather of the pen she began to touch and stroke her vivid lips and he noticed how full and gentle were their curves.

"He is a fool who strives for the impossible!" said he at last.

"Nay, he is a very man!" she retorted. "Are there many things impossible after all, to a man of sufficient determination, I wonder—or a woman?"

The Major, seating himself on a corner of the desk, pondered this also; and now the feather of the pen was caressing the dimple in her chin, and he noticed how firm this chin was for all its round softness.

"'Deed, sir," she went on again, "I feel as we had known each other all our days, I wonder why?"

The Major took up his tobacco-box that lay near by and turned it over and over before he answered and without looking at her:

"I'm happy to know it, madam, very!"

"And my name is Betty and yours is John and we are neighbours. So I shall call you Major John and sometimes Major Jack—when you please me."

"How did you learn my name?" he asked gently; but now he did look at her.

"Major John," she answered lightly, "you possess a nephew."

"Aye, to be sure!" said he and looked at the tobacco-box again, then put it by, rather suddenly, and rose, "which reminds me that the company wait you, mam——"

"Do—not——"

"Madam!"

"Nor that!"

"My lady Betty," he amended, after a momentary pause. "The company—

"Pish to the company!"

"But madam, consider——"

"Pooh to the company! Pray be seated again, Major John. You love your nephew, sir?"

"Indeed! 'Tis a noble fellow, handsome, rich and—young——"

"True, he's very young, Major John!"

"And—er—" the Major glanced a little helplessly towards the tobacco-box, "he—he loves you and, er——"

"Mm!" said Lady Betty, biting the pen thoughtfully between white teeth. "He loves me, sir—go on, I beg!"

"And being a lover he awaits you impatiently."

"And the others, sir."

"And the others of course, and here are you—I mean here am I——"

"You, Major John—but O why drag yourself into it?"

"I mean that whiles they wait for sight of you I—er—keep you here——"

"By main force, sir."

The Major laughed.

"They will be growing desperate, I doubt," said he.

"Well, let 'em, Major John, I prefer to be—kept here awhile. Pray be seated as you were."

He obeyed, though his usually serene brow was flushed and his gaze wandered towards the tobacco-box again, perceiving which, my lady placed it in his hand.

"As regards your nephew——"

"Meaning Tom."

"Meaning Pancras, sir, he plagued me monstrously this morning. I was alone within the bower and he had the extreme impertinence to—climb the wall."

"The deuce he did, mam!"

"It hath been done before, I think, sir!" she sighed. "Being stole into the arbour he set a cushion on the floor and his knees thereon and, referring to his tablets, spoke me thus: 'Here beginneth the one-hundred-and-forty-sixth supplication for the hand, the heart, the peerless body of the most adorable——' but I spare you the rest, sir. Upon this, I, for the one-hundred and forty-sixth time incontinent refused him, whereupon he was for reading an ode he hath writ me, whereupon I, very naturally, sought to flee away, whereupon a great, vile, hugeous, ugly, monstrous, green and hairy caterpillar fell upon me—whereupon, of course, I swooned immediately."

"Poor child!" said the Major.

"The couch being comfortably near, sir."

"Couch!" exclaimed the Major, staring.

"Would you have me swoon on the floor, sir?"

"But if you swoon, mam——"

"I swoon gracefully, sir—'tis a family trait. I, being in a swoon, then, Major John, your nephew had the extreme temerity to—kiss me."

The Major looked highly uncomfortable.

"He kissed me here, sir!" and rosy finger-tip indicated dimpled chin. "To be sure he aimed for my lips, but, by subtlety, I substituted my chin which he kissed—O, passionately!"

The Major dropped the tobacco-box.

"But I understand you—but you were swooning!" he stammered.

"I frequently do, Major John, I also faint, sir, as occasion doth demand."

"God bless my soul!" he exclaimed.

"And wherefore this amaze, sir?"

"'Fore Heaven, madam, I had not dreamed of such—such duplicity."

"O Innocence!" she cried.

"Do all fine ladies feign swoons, madam?"

"Major Innocence, they do! They swoon by rote and they faint by rule."

"Thank Heaven there be none to come swooning my way!" said he fervently.

"Dare you contemn the sex, sir?

"Nay, I'm not so bold, madam, or sufficiently experienced."

"To be sure your knowledge of the sex is limited, I understand."

"Very!"

"You have known but three ladies, I think?"

The Major bowed.

"Then I make the fourth, Major John."

"But indeed, I should never learn to know you in the least."

"Why, 'tis very well!" she nodded. "That which mystifies, attracts."

"Do you wish to attract?" he enquired, stooping for the tobacco-box.

"Sir, I am a woman!"

"True," he smiled, "for whose presence several poor gentlemen do sigh. Let us join 'em."

"Ah! You wish to be rid of me!" She laid down the pen and, leaning chin on hand, regarded him with eyes of meekness. "Do you wish to be rid of me?" she enquired humbly. "Do I weary you with my idle chatter, most grave philosopher?" She had a trick of pouting red lips sometimes when thinking and she did so now as she waited her answer.

"No!" said he.

"I could wish you a little more emphatic, sir and much more—more fiercely masculine—ferocity tempered with respect. Could you ever forget to be so preposterously sedate?"

"I climbed a wall!" he reminded her.

"Pooh!" she exclaimed, "and sat there as gravely unruffled, as proper and precise as a parson in a pulpit. See you now, perched upon a corner of the desk, yet you perch so sublimely correct and solemn 'tis vastly annoying. Could you ever contrive to lose your temper, I wonder?"

"Never with a child," he answered, smiling.

Lady Betty stiffened and stared at him with proud head upflung, grew very red, grew pale, and finally laughed; but her eyes glittered beneath down-sweeping lashes as she answered softly:

"'Deed, sir, I'm very contemptibly young, sir, immaturely hoydenish, sir, green, callow, unripe and altogether of no account to a tried man o' the world sir, of age and judgment ripe—aye, a little over-ripe, perchance. And yet, O!" my lady sighed ecstatic, "I dare swear that one day you shall not find in all the South country such a furiously-angry, ferociously-passionate, rampantly-raging old gentleman as Major John d'Arcy, sir!"

"And there's your aunt calling us, I think," said he, gently. Lady Betty bit her lip and frowned at her dainty shoe. "Pray let her wail, sir, 'tis her one delight when there chance to be a sufficiency of gentlemen to attend her, so suffer the poor soul to wail awhile, sir—nay, she's here!"

As the Major rose the door opened and Lady Belinda entered "twittering" upon the arms of Viscount Merivale and Sir Benjamin Tripp.

"Olack-a-day, dear Bet!" she gasped, "my own love-bird, 'tis here you are and the dear Major too! We've sought thee everywhere, child, the tea languishes—high an low we've sought thee, puss. 'Tis a monstrous fine house but vast—so many stairs—such work—upstairs and downstairs I've climbed and clambered, child——"

"Od so, 'tis true enough!" said Sir Benjamin clapping laced handkerchief to heated brow, "haven't done so much, hem! I say so much climbing for years, I vow!"

Here the Viscount, serene as ever, slowly closed one eye.

"Come Betty sweet, tea grows impatient and clamours for thee and I for tea, and the gentlemen all do passion for thee."

"By the way, Tom," said the Major as they followed the company, "I don't see Mr. Dalroyd here."

"No more he is, nunky!" answered the Viscount, "but then, Lord, sir, Dalroyd is something of an unknown quantity, at all times."